Letting go
by senna93
Summary: 'I don't want to be a part of this lie anymore. What's the point' 'What are you going to do about it' Dominique is sick with pretending that her life is perfect, but really, what can she do about it? And is it really a wise choice to change? Luckily there is Lysander to help her decide, or will he just watch her crash and burn?


**Warning**: Dominique smokes, but smoking is bad! So I just want to say that I'm not promoting it at all (I don't smoke myself!).

**Authors note**: Something I wrote last year, but I thought I should upload something seeing as I haven't put anything on for a long time now. So this is kind of a bad Christmas present!

* * *

**And I'm letting go…**

** …letting go of dreams, of hopes and of the illusions that were my life…**

'Pass me your cigarette, would you?' Dominique asks Lysander as she sits down in the grass.

Lysander quirks an eyebrow at the sixteen year old girl sitting next to him. 'No, why should I?'

She rolls her eyes without looking at him. 'Don't be an ass, San.'

'Fine', he snaps and hands it over. 'What are you drinking?'

'Firewiskey', she says as she gives her glass to him and lies down. Dominique brings the cigarette to her lips and inhales slowly. After a moment she blows out the smoke. 'Don't you dare to drink it all, or you're going to make sure my glass is back full.'

Lysander takes a sip, gives her the glass back and lights another cigarette. 'I didn't know you smoked.'

'You never asked', she says simply.

'Whatever', he says casually, like it doesn't matter, but he's interested. He glances at the girl. Dominique has closed her eyes, which gives Lysander the opportunity to really look at her. She has cut off all of her strawberry blond hair since the last time that he saw her. Now she has a short, boyish haircut, but Lysander likes it. She's pale and thinner than he remembered. High cheekbones, a full lower lip and a few light freckles.

'I hate them', she says suddenly, her voice filled with anger. She opens her eyes, her gaze catches his and she sits up straight. 'I hate all of them. I can't _stand_ them. They're so bloody perfect. Their whole lives are so bloody perfect. Perfect lives with a perfect smile.'

Lysander looks how she bites on her lip and takes a sip from her glass without flinching when the liqueur burns her throat, giving him the impression that it isn't the first time that she's drinking it. Nor the second time.

'I can't do this anymore', she is speaking softly now and she looks at the cigarette in her hand. 'I don't want to be a part of this lie anymore. What's the point?' She takes another drag.

Lysander looks away, not sure how to talk to her when she's like this. He doesn't want to comfort a crying girl. 'What are you going to do about it?'

Dominique is quiet for a long time. She is quiet so long that Lysander is sure that she won't answer and that he looks at her, but then she does. 'I'm going to run away.'

'You're what?'

Her gaze finds his. Dominique's eyes are filled with confidence and relief. 'I've been thinking about this for years. It's time that I'm going to do it. I'm not like them, San. I've never been like them. I don't belong here, I – Merlin, why am I explaining myself to you?'

Lysander has no idea what he's looking for in her bright blue eyes, but he's not finding it. 'How?' he asks her eventually.

Dominique brings the cigarette back to her lips and takes another drag, without looking away from him. 'Promise me you won't tell them.'

'You're talking to me, Lysander Scamander. Nobody takes me seriously, Dom', Lysander says and he runs his fingers through his blond hair.

For a moment she just looks at him, but then Lysander passes whatever the test was, because she starts talking. 'I'm going to take grandpa's tent and I'll disappear in the muggle world.' The blond girl stubs out her cigarette, lies back down and looks up at the stars. 'I can keep myself alive until I turn seventeen. Then I'm an adult and I'll find myself a job and a flat or something.'

Lysander stares at her for a moment and then forces himself to look away. 'When will you leave?'

'Tomorrow', she answers within a heartbeat. 'There are some things that I can't leave behind.'

'Things like what?'

Dominique shrugs, but answers anyway. 'You know, stuff. Clothes, mainly.'

Lysander smirks. 'Keeping secrets, aren't we?'

Dominique shrugs again, but keeps silent.

'Count me in.'

Dominique looks at him like she doesn't believe him, but doesn't say a thing.

Lysander feels her stare, but doesn't look at her. 'I said: count me in. Come to my home when you've packed your stuff. Tell your parents that you're coming over. My parents won't notice us.'

'Why?' Dominique asks him after a moment of silence.

'You're not the only one that doesn't belong here, Dom', he says bitterly. He takes a last drag from his cigarette and stubs it out. 'I'm hungry and cold', and he gets up. 'I'm going inside. Are you coming with me?'

'No, I'm staying here for a while', she says without looking at him. 'Can you miss another cigarette?'

Lysander rolls his eyes. 'That's all that I'm good for, isn't it?' he asks her snarky, but gives her one anyway.

Dominique grins and winks, holding his gaze for a moment. 'You still love me, anyway.'

Lysander rolls his eyes again, but smirks. 'Don't get too cocky, blondie. One day your luck can turn against you.' He puts his hands in his pockets, takes a last look at the blond girl who's only one year younger than him and goes inside.

Dominique closes her eyes and listens to the night, while thinking about what she'll have to pack before she'll leave.

'Dominique! Dominique!' Her dad.

Dominique doesn't move an inch.

'Domi?' Her mom.

'What?' Dominique yells back, still not moving.

'Come here, sweetheart, will you?' Her grandma.

Dominique sighs but gets up. She brushes off her pants, empties the glass and hides the cigarette, before she strolls to the Burrow. There is a large party-tent in the back yard, decorated with flowers and little lights. All her family is present, just like the Longbottem's and the Scamander's.

When her mother sees her, she runs towards her and hugs her. Dominique freezes and knows instantly that Lysander has told them. When she lets Dominique go, she frowns. 'Why do you smell like cigarettes?'

'Because Lysander smokes', she tells her mother. If Lysander has screwed her over, then it's okay if she screws him over. It's just a matter of getting even.

'We're going home, now', her mother says, as she pulls her daughter towards the Burrow. 'Get your things.'

After a few steps Dominique pulls herself loose and stops. She crosses her arms and frowns. 'What's wrong?' she asks, while she searches for Lysander. He is sitting, casually leaning back in his chair, his face is blank.

'Dominique, get you things', her mother says impatiently.

'No', Dominique flat out refuses. 'Tell me what's wrong.'

'Dominique, do as you're told', her dad says.

Dominique says nothing. She just keeps looking at her mother, waiting for an explanation.

'Merlin, Dominique, the whole world doesn't revolve around you', Victoire snaps. 'Just get your things and then we can get home.'

'No, it revolves around you, doesn't it, Victoire?' Dominique sneers. Victoire looks taken aback for a moment, her baby blue eyes widening in shock. Dominique scowls. 'I'm part Veela, too, so that trick doesn't work on me. You can stop now.'

'What is wrong with you?'

'Girls,' their father says, 'this isn't-'

'What's wrong with _me_?' Dominique ignores her father, just like she ignores her mother and the rest of the people, who are now silently watching the scene. Her voice is a bit shrill, but she ignores that, too. 'There is nothing wrong with me! What's-'

'Oh, so you're not a crazy nut-case who wants to run away?' Victoire sneers.

'Girls-'

'Just shut up, Victoire! I'm sorry that I'm done with living in your shadow, okay? I'm sorry that I'm done with being compared to you, only to end up second. Second in looks. Second in character. Second in grades. Whatever it is, I'm second! Just be glad that the focus will be all on you from now on, okay? You don't even have to thank me for that, it's all for free.'

Nobody says a thing, everybody just stares at Dominique.

'What?' Dominique snaps. 'It's the truth, isn't it? I'm just the first one to actually say it out loud.'

'Oh, Domi', her mother says and she sounds so sad. 'This is… Oh Merlin, I'm sorry.'

'And here comes the pity', Dominique mutters, but loud enough for everyone to hear. She walks past her family and gets inside, to get her things so she can floo home and lock herself up in her room. She's angry and disappointed, but most of all she's lonely and tired. She's tired of pretending, tired of trying, she's tired of caring.

'You're crying.'

Dominique looks up. Lysander is leaning against the doorpost. His blond hair looks even blonder against the dark background of the yard. His face, nor his eyes, betray what he's thinking. He walks towards Dominique and stops when he is right in front of her, so she has to look up at him.

'Go away', she sneers, but she can't muster any venom. Now they're just some empty words. 'I don't want to see you', and she looks at her feet.

Lysander wipes her tears away and pulls her chin up with one finger. 'We're going to run away together, Domi,' he says softly, earnestly, 'but that day isn't tomorrow', and he slowly kisses her.


End file.
